


Honest Affection

by Drazyrohk



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 07:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16012790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drazyrohk/pseuds/Drazyrohk
Summary: Maximals and Predacons differed in a great many ways, but none so much as the way they interacted physically.





	Honest Affection

Maximals and Predacons differed in a great many ways, but none so much as the way they interacted physically.

It wasn’t as if Predacons went out of their way to be rough in their everyday dealings with one another, but they certainly didn’t make a habit of touching one another as often as the Maximals seemed to. 

It was something that Dinobot observed happening as he grew accustomed to being part of the Maximal ranks. It was more than simply a friendly pat on the shoulder here and there. It was the touch of a hand upon a comrade’s back, the squeeze of an arm, the stroke of a helm while someone was in beast mode, it was…

It was honest affection. 

Predictably it was their youngest that was the most likely to engage in such things. Cheetor went out of his way, particularly in beast mode, to seek the touch of others. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for him to walk past one of the other Maximals as close as he possibly could, rubbing the length of his frame against Rhinox’s side or letting Optimus Primal run his servo along his back. When the rat was in a good mood, Cheetor would even nuzzle him or lick the top of his helm teasingly. And the rare times when Tigatron joined them in the base, he and Cheetor would embrace their instincts and engage in games in the hall where they would stalk one another around and pounce and wrestle. 

Dinobot was apart from these sorts of things. He didn’t exactly make himself approachable, and honest affection was as alien to him as the planet outside the ship walls. He watched, but never engaged. He was present, but never approached. 

But then Dinobot found himself sitting vigil next to Primal’s bedside and the demeanor of his new team began to shift. What was once hostile and bitter exchanges of conversation between himself and Rattrap became playful banter. They made faces at one another behind Primal’s back when the commander had enough of their bickering and told them to be quiet. 

He found himself conversing at length with Primal and Rhinox. It was stimulating, it was intelligent, it was better conversation than he’d had in ages. Dinobot didn’t think he’d come out of a conversation feeling quite so good since the early days of the Predacons, back before Megatron had gone mad. 

Going on patrol with Tigatron was refreshing. The two of them could enjoy one another’s company without speaking, and the white cat was more observant than any of the other Maximals. If Dinobot was having issues with something, all he had to do was find Tigatron and take a stroll through the jungle or across the savannah with him and engage in a friendly debate over what course of action to take. 

But Cheetor still kept his distance. Perhaps it had more to do with the fact that the young cat never stopped moving than it did with avoidance, but Dinobot couldn’t help pinning a more personal reason to it. 

He honestly wasn’t even sure if he was bothered by it, but the fact that his thoughts kept dwelling on the fact probably meant that somewhere deep down he was. As usual, Tigatron seemed to know the truth of the situation without Dinobot even explaining it to him. 

As they returned to the base after an evening patrol, Cheetor came down the lift to greet them. Tigatron looked up at Dinobot as they paused outside the shields and waited for them to come down so they could enter. He smiled, then as he started forward to meet Cheetor, he rubbed his chin and shoulder against Dinobot’s flank as he passed him. 

Cheetor saw. His rounded audio receptors perked up, his optics widened, his tail lifted like a flag behind him. He still didn’t approach Dinobot, but his EMF had a friendly charge to it when they were close enough to one another.

It took a few days for Cheetor to gather the nerve. Dinobot was in the command center, staring at a map of registered energon veins and trying to determine the best place to start setting up proximity sensors when he felt the brush of a field against his own. 

He glanced down and to the left, seeing Cheetor standing just out of reach. The cat was wearing a smile and had a brightness in his optics, and when he saw he had been acknowledged he crept closer. 

Dinobot remained still and silent and simply watched as the little cat came up on his flank. He felt the build of static from Cheetor’s fur when their frames met, felt the firm pressure against his frame as he mimicked the actions of Tigatron a few days before. It was just as brief, but less casual, more demanding, more firm. It was honestly affectionate. 

Dinobot couldn’t help smiling, and he reached out to drag his talons lightly along Cheetor’s back. The little cat arched into his touch, let out a rumbling purr, then with a flick of his tail he was across the command center and heading down the hallway. 

Not even the lingering static shorting out the console briefly when he touched it again could dampen Dinobot’s mood after that.


End file.
